Maria's Grave
by DarkBlaze14
Summary: Shadow takes some time to remember an old friend, and it leads him to some important questions. Rated T for angst.


**Maria's Grave**

* * *

Every day - _every day_ I come back to this grave. A grave that I had to make with my own hands, because I'm the only remaining connection to her existence. I've tried to stop before. I would tell myself that I'd rather take my own life than walk here again and talk to a stone. I would say that there's no use in reliving the source of this pain I've always felt. But, here I stand once more; and it's where I'll be come tomorrow, the next day, next week - it doesn't matter. I know how the cycle goes.

I don't even have any acquaintances left to remember her with, for they left me behind long ago. I would give an actual amount of time, just to put it all into perspective, but I truthfully lost all my worldly senses after I realized my isolation. Sure, I have allies, but they more or less mock me for my behavior. They know not of my struggle, and they know not of their good fortune. Of course, I choose not to fault them for their ignorance, because that would simply be unjust. Believe me when I say, however, that doing so is no easy task. Honestly, I would refuse any one of them if they were to reach out to me, anyway.

In reality, those who could've shared in my sorrows are not _dead_, they've all simply moved on from their grief. It was a somber atmosphere for a day or two, and then they jumped right back into their everyday life. You see, they didn't _know_ Maria like I did. She was important to me in a way that confined my trust to _only_ her. She was, in a sense, both a sister and a mother to me. That's another reason I feel so alone in this world now. But they - _they_ had other commitments, larger obligations. They all had lives to live, and goals to accomplish. Myself? I'm a _creation_. A broken one at that, now that she's gone. I have no standard to meet, no rights to lean on. Without this grave, I have no purpose, and I have no story.

No, I never felt for Maria in a romantic way. That often gets misconstrued, I believe, simply because of how much I speak of her. I think there is a fair amount of misconception that surrounds my personality, really. I'm not cold-hearted or emotionless; if anything, I feel _too much_. _That_ is my tragic flaw - _I feel_ _everything_. I have so many emotions running through my mind at any given point in time that I come off as reserved. Anger, hatred, remorse, guilt - people don't realize how _different_ I would be if Maria were still here. Do they _really_ believe that I'm incapable of happiness? If I _couldn't feel_, as many like to say, would I really be standing here _every damn day_? I feel a slight sense of obligation to it, at the very least.

I lie to myself and say that I could've saved her. I do it all the time. It would have taken a miracle, but miracles happen. I just wasn't good enough. In any case, it should have been me. I - _oh, God_; I can still hear that gunshot. I never _mean_ to recreate it - it just happens. I lose focus on whatever I'm doing, and I suddenly find myself in a race for my life, tightening my grip on her hand again. It all ends with the pull of a trigger, just as it once did, and I abruptly return to reality, with a false sense of hope that it was all a dream.

I think it has finally gotten to where this whole thing is unhealthy, if I'm honest. I won't eat because I'm never hungry; many nights I go without sleep. I hardly bathe, and I rarely clean my house. If my mind and heart are always at this grave, how could I possibly think of or love anything else? I'm _immortal_, not _invulnerable_. In fact, the former is a vulnerability in itself. The only dream I hold onto anymore is to one day be placed in the cold ground next to her. Once upon a time, I cared about being remembered for my actions, not my roots. Now that my roots have _left_ _me_, however, my only wish is to reclaim them.

I hold a white rose in my hand. White for purity, innocence, and the endless possibilities that the future holds. Maria had all of these, in my eyes, during her life, so it is only just that she have them in death. I bring one every time I come here, just to make certain that she's never stripped of those qualities again. I was created _without tear ducts_, reader - you know that? I've never cried before. I don't know what it feels like; all I know is that I wish I could in moments like these. _Emotionless_, right? Hmph. Don't insult me.

Sometimes, I tell myself I'll _outgrow_ my grief. Yet, as time stretches and strains my mind and body, I find myself clinging tighter to this headstone. As it withers, my memories become more prominent. I'm in an infinite rut that runs from the center of my soul to the core of this world. I can no longer deny it. I fear - yes, _fear_ \- what will become of me if this continues. What I ask for, however, is impossible to obtain. I crave the _past_, not a _replacement,_ and such a luxury is not allowed in life - _any_ life.

So, what is this, then? This grave - is it loyalty? Insanity? _Ignorance_? Am I childish, or noble? Or, rather, have I struck a nerve of respectability in my fall from reason? Is the grave benefitting me? Remembrance was my motive when I built it, but is that what has come out of it? _Should I stop_? I ask you these things so you can be my judge, reader. Because my peers measure me on a different scale, you see. I have become blind to everything but those who have left me. But, at the same time, I'm no longer certain that sight is what I seek. I am but a traveler without a ticket to his name. A name, _Shadow_, that encompasses my pain.

I gently place the rose on a pile of similar ones; a pile that surrounds the stone, and towers to half its height. There's at least a hundred of them. Some are more wrinkled than others, but all are dying. I must then pick another, for it is the only true way to preserve. And I will continue to lay these roses here until I'm told not to, for disapproval is the only measure of value. _Value_, which is akin to _righteousness_. Judge me, reader, for it is a decision I cannot make.

Until next time, Maria. Pray you come find me, should you ever wake.

**The End**

* * *

**If you would care to know my meaning/motive behind this short little oneshot, please continue scrolling. If not, then thank you for reading!**

**Alright, so this is essentially half an allegory referring to my current struggle with this fandom, and half an actual portrayal of how I view Shadow's canon character. Of course, I'll speak more on the former, since that is not obvious whatsoever!**

**Just to put it into perspective for you, think of myself as Shadow, and the Sonic fandom as Maria in this situation. ( No, I'm not by any means saying that this fandom is dead. XD ) And honestly, just in knowing that, you could probably pick out what I'm saying simply through the text. But, I'll explain further:**

**You see, I've been obsessed with the Sonic series since I was about thirteen or so. But now, it seems like almost every author, artist, etc. that originally pulled me toward this fandom has now moved on. Most of them now have college or adulthood to worry about; they're now off living their own lives, like any respectable human being should be, leaving people like me wondering what's next. Now, when I think back to the earlier days of this fandom (at least for me), it kinda' depresses me to remember how much fun I used to have with it. I think of the people who inspired me to write, and most of them are gone now. And, ya' know, it makes me wonder if I'm outgrowing it all, or something like that. I prefer not to think of it that way, but it hasn't been quite the same since I started writing, some two-three years ago.**

**I dunno', I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I just wanted to share it with you all. Is this just me? Does anyone else have these feelings as well? Am I just crazy, and this fandom is the same as it's always been? **

**Normally I leave my stories (especially oneshots) open to interpretation, but I really just wanted to get this off my chest.**

**In any event, I sincerely hope you enjoyed the read! Love you guys!**


End file.
